ANC 0

For 4 days now Ev's ANC has been at 0. The good thing is that he has not had any fevers to accompany the absent immune system. The bad, of course, is that there's something keeping his immune system down. Perhaps it's the viral infection he is still combating, maybe his system just needs longer to build...there's nothing definitive, but the nurses and docs are keeping tabs and requesting various tests that might tell us more.

So, we wait, day after day.

We are the early risers on our floor (by a long shot). We even wake up before labs come back informing us of his counts...looking at his red and white blood cells and platelets, and the other cells that build into those categories.

By noon of each day we know how much longer our stay could be. Basically, for each day that we hear 0, we have at least two days more. If we hear anything higher than 0 we might be able to leave in one more day. Each day could change the next step.

Everett is also one of the few children on our floor that has hair. He has had hair for the majority of his treatment and that is rare. Last night, it hit me...I don't know when his hair had been washed last. We have been here since Monday afternoon...so it's way passed the threshold.

Here are some pics of how it works on our floor...

Bell ringing!! photos

Last chemo via port.

THE bell!

Twist

I thought my days of posting from the make-shift couch-bed in the hospital were over...but, here we are again. And, Ev thought his days of getting accessed were over. Not so fast.

Everett was admitted this past Monday night because he had a high fever and was neutropenic. His ANC went down to 150.

He has been a week off of chemo meds, conquered two months of kindergarten and was scheduled to get his port out this Friday. It felt like we were in the clear. It seemed the Leukemia chapter was done and the next was beginning.

But, I guess this is the twist at the end of any good story. You think you know where you're headed and then BAM! a twist before the end and then, applause.

In the midst of getting antibiotics and more blood tests, Ev has experienced what it means to be inpatient. He has no memories of staying on level 5. However, I was immediately flooded with both good and bad memories as soon as those huge doors swung open to invite us in.

So, I am sharing with him various stories that come to mind. The bad memories I will keep to myself for now but the good ones offer some pleasant moments in this twist in our story.

Yesterday, we started drawing and writing on the windows and doors in our room and he says, "guys, I don't think we're supposed to do that." HA! We've done that a million times before. We also played balloon bop, where he bops me in the head with his balloons...not my favorite game, but for him, it's a hilarious "new" game.

One of the upsides to this time is that we aren't having to balance chemo meds with everything else he needs...we aren't attacking cells, we are only building them up and that takes away a lot of concern.

The blood cultures show a viral infection and not anything more severe and we are definitely thankful for that. Now we are waiting for the temperatures to go away and for his ANC to show signs of increase. And, last night was his first night with no fever!

40 days!!!

It's been a year since I last posted... and it's been a good break for me. I was tired, and I'm still tired, but it's been nice to step away.

At times, it has felt like the carnival ride from Sandlot...you want to get off, you need to get off, but you have to wait until its over. I would say I have metaphorically puked several times and now I am just waiting for the ride to come to a complete stop.

Now that both boys are in school I have people asking me what I am doing with my time. A valid question, but one that I don't always answer truthfully (because I've realized through this that what I see as good and part of the battle others see as sad). It's the idea of being Debbie Downer from the Saturday Night Live skits that I try to avoid. But, I'll be honest here...I cry.

Everyday the boys have had school I cry and it's healing. Crying is good, I like to cry because it is necessary and not everyone accepts sharing in sorrow or tears. Usually what inspires the tears are replaying the past 3 years in my mind and being able to see almost the whole picture or watching the boys joyfully run into the school doors together.

The boys couldn't be more different...filling out school forms for Ben is so simple and for Ev I needed more space than what was provided and have talked to the school nurse for 40+ minutes on a care plan. The ying and yang of these boys is insane. Yet they are such good friends.

Everett is in kindergarten and Ben is in second grade. This morning when I dropped them off we counted how many days are left of treatment. There's only 40 days left of chemo meds! (This realization was the source of my tears today, or at least for the morning.)

Tomorrow is Ev's last spinal tap. Then he will have one more clinic visit in September...oral chemo meds stop October 1 and by Halloween his port will be out.

And, he asked if he could be a zombie this morning...except he meant for real and not just for dress up. The kid thinks it's cool to die and come back to life. WOW! So, spiritual speaking, I completely agree. And, then in some ways he already is a zombie...he came close to death, but here he is alive and well...making us laugh and love. I love how kids think!

Soon we will be on a path that will move us all forward and no longer will we sit and wait on what the moment or day will bring. This is exciting for all of us!

Everett has no idea what it's like to be healthy and I am overwhelmed in a great way to watch him slowly heal and surprise himself as he tries new things. I thought that so much of our joy was taken from us because of cancer, but I know now that we are lucky, fortunate and blessed to have faced such darkness only to see the light so much brighter and clearer. Some of the joys I dreamt of didn't happen and I honestly have mourned them. But, now the joys we have are so much richer. I would be lying if I wasn't grateful for that.

...And, thank you to all of you who have continued to check in with us, send us messages or kept us in your prayers. We've needed every bit of all of you to make it through. I appreciate what every single person has done in their various roles...it all blesses and it is all important.

June 2013

July 2016

Is that a bluebird on my shoulder?

We made it to Vermont! It was a great trip and none of us wanted to leave. Ev wanted to turn right back around and Ben cried himself to sleep for a few nights after getting back. It sounds sad as I write it, but it wasn't. It was wonderful to share a place Jeff and I love with our boys and then for them to now share that joy with us.

A few days before we headed east Ev was diagnosed with asthma (likely to be childhood asthma and not last for his entire life). I accepted the news with partial joy because I knew something else was going on, and now we had an answer. When you are fighting cancer, almost all other health issues point right back (whether the illness itself or side effects from medicines or procedures). Asthma is a completely separate issue. I actually enjoyed dealing with a lesser health concern...the meds are less and more simplistic, our time in the office was faster, and there were no pokes, dizziness, nausea, etc. Asthma feels like a skinned knee.

In preparation for our trip we had a list of notable hospitals that we could go to if needed and we, of course, had our own little pharmacy in our car. I was beyond overjoyed to have made such a trip without any medical drama. What a blessing!

My prayer is always that Ev would get what is needed no matter how messy and crazy that looks. I prayed with even more fervor on this before we left. And my prayer was answered, again. It's never how I think, but always in a way that humbles and blesses me and my family in ways that bring tears to my eyes and leaves me speechless.

Now, we are on our 4th day of school. Ben is at a new school and loving it while Ev is at home doing preschool with me.

As I think about the happenings of this year I don't have that hidden layer of anxious doom beneath the surface. I genuinely feel positive through to my core. It's as if I am walking Ben to school with a bluebird on my shoulder...for the moment I have found myself in a Disney movie.

Two down, one to go

We are taking time off for good behavior...in about a week we are heading to Vermont. Fortunately, Ev has been doing well while in maintenance and with another year still to go we could all use the chaotic fun of a road trip. We are all so excited to go...Ben is certain he will remember places (he was 18mo. when we left), Ev wanted to leave a week ago, Jeff has planned every meal and I am in tears at the thought of this really happening. 

So, when we went to clinic today and Ev's ANC was 1080, I sighed in relief. Sure, that's still low, but it's good enough for us to go.

It's funny, a 15 hour road trip is not something parents with young kids usually sign up for, but compared to these past two years it sounds blissful. It will definitely be therapietic for all of us and I am eager to see how it all unfolds...thankful to be hitting the road with my loves in tow. 

And in two days another year of treatment will be done. Two down and one to go.

"June 4" still weighs heavy on the heart, but it's not all pain and uncertainty anymore. Now "June 4" is more of a mile marker and soon it will be the finish line. 

...I think we can handle a road trip.

The hideout

Ev has a hideout in our living room. Between the couch and chair is a little nook that he escapes to everyday. He will watch YouTube for kids, PBS kids, play games, look at books and play with toys...the typical hideout stuff for the modern child.

When I think about it we have all needed our own hideouts in this process. And those hideouts tend to change, but we always find new ones. 

About a week ago I really fell apart. I think I lost my hideout...due to circumstance and my disregard for its necessity in my life. After almost an entire day of tears, frustration and pleading and yelling at God (yet, again)...I fell to the floor sobbing. Ev was having a very similar day. But, Ev came to me and we hugged. I told him what I've always wanted to say since this battle began. I told him how I was sad that he was sick and for what he has to go through. 

I can't share everything I'd like to since he's only 4 years old, but it felt so good to be able to say something. It was an impossible conversation at 2 years old. 

He cried a bit more hearing my heart's confession. We hugged and cried together on the floor of my closet. It felt raw like a fresh open wound and it felt so very healing at the same time.

That evening when life returned to a more normal state, Ev randomly looked at me and said, when I'm sad, you're sad and when you're sad, I'm sad. He said, when we are sad we hug and hugs mean I love you. (Yes!)

I take comfort in seeing Ev tucked away in his hideout as I confess to you all. And I take comfort that God responds to my tantrums every time and reminds me of His love for me and how that love can morf into anything that is needed. And continually our needs are met.

My hideouts aren't always known to me in the moment, but slowly I am catching on...aware of what some have looked like in the past 2 years. I don't have a little nook in the corner because God knows what Ev needs and what I need are not identical. My nooks, my hideouts, are often found among friends, family, moments with my husband and from an assortment of books.

God is loving and renewing us. And despite my short comings, God can see a heart that longs for Him. A longing that continues to grow.

Hallelujah, but the roof's caving in

Ev has had a cough for months, high temps off and on, some ear aches and none of them led us back to the hospital, unscheduled. It appeared as though we had evaded the flu season. But, then we got caught. A week to the day, after our last monthly visit, we found ourselves in the ER due to a continued high temp and Ev feeling horrible. (It wasn't an emergency, but clinic wasn't open yet).

So, Ev got a break from chemo meds for about a week as his body needed a break to regain from being attacked over and over from this cold and that. When we hear the word break we think that its a chance to kick back and relax, but really it just changes the plan of attack. He had become neutropenic, which brings on adaptations of a different sort. And, now a good portion of his body is covered in an itchy rash.

But, anyhow, here we are...his counts are back up just enough to continue with chemo meds.

And we go back in a week for our scheduled monthly visit. Blah! Five visits in a months time...we liked and had gotten used to the space between visits. But that's life...you can't always choose what to fight or when to fight, you just have to be ready.

The continual up and down makes me think of the song "A Woman Caught" by Penny and Sparrow. Jeff and I got to see the band last night and the funny thing is...the song is about a prostitute. I am not referring to that part. What I think about are the lyrics "hallelujah, but the roof's caving in." 

This journey has felt like that the whole way through. It's a smile through tears, it's wanting to break something while wanting to bear hug someone, it's feeling apathetic and then overwhelmed by emotion, ...it's hallelujah when the roof caves in.

Hallelujah:

Ev woke up at 1:30am with a high temp and this is what became of it...sleepy love. We all found ourselves in the living room awaiting what would happen next. This is my Hallelujah...the truth of love revealed. My boys already know the many facets of love. Their lesson on love, sacrifice and life and death came early, but they are blooming that much sooner...sharing love and compassion.

but the roof's caving in:

This is in the ER about 6 hours after the photo above. You can tell he wasn't feeling well, but he's watching cartoons and you can still see some chocolate on his lip. This is my roof caving in (...because I can't and would never capture the torment that can occur between some of the photos I share, but this one in particular was very rough). One of his nurses actually apologized to me last week for having to watch and hold Ev down...you can picture this fighter, literally fighting, right?!...with tears in his eyes! It isn't for her to apologize for, but it was so helpful to me that someone could see and realize how hard that part is and as a mother too. Jeff and Ben have seen it too...it's horrible for Ev and therefore me, and the rest of his sleepy love buddies.) 

A new day

We have been going to Riley for years (actually, 1 yr and 9 mo.s) ...but it feels like years. We see familar faces and new ones each visit. We've seen nurses pregnant and now pics of their wee ones taking first steps. Time is passing and Ev is becoming a boy in the process.

Five days before our next visit, Ev asked when we would be visiting Riley again. I was surprised he asked because he never has. It always seemed as if he liked not knowing. But, now he wants to know, so I told him. And inside I was cringing at the thought of the added anxiety that would come because of it (for him...and me). But, no anxieties came. Three days out he asked again and he was still ok. Then he asked the day before, and no anxiety...just a testament as to why he doesn't like to go. 

Ev was more aware of this visit before and while in clinic, and it didn't seem to add any anxiety. It was a good visit. He actually helped access his stuffed animal snake, which was so cleverly named "Snake-Snake." 

So, as he was receiving his chemo, the snake was too. 

The beautiful and painful part was that he didn't want to access Snake-Snake's port at first because he knew it hurt. But, we urged him to give it a go and he seemed to find it helpful. 

I don't know if Ev saw the snake as sharing in his pain or if it was helpful to be the one giving the poke rather than the one receiving it. Either or both, it was a good thing. And a bond was made for Ev with his new stuffed animal. Snake-Snake did not leave his side that day and I don't think it will any time soon.

My big boy is learning about his sickness in a new way. He's no longer just putting up with it and giving into the distractions we throw at him, he is beginning to really see and understand it.

Raising money and awareness

I have a few points of interest to share...

"The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) is a proud supporter of Ken Burns Presents CANCER: THE EMPEROR OF ALL MALADIES, a film by Barak Goodman. Based on Siddhartha Mukherjee’s 2010 Pulitzer Prize‐winning book, “The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer,” it’s a vivid account of cancer's grim past and the promising future of cures. LLS-funded research has contributed to breakthroughs that have helped tame some of the most lethal blood cancers, and helped get to this moment of extraordinary progress in cancer research and treatment.

The three‐part, six‐hour documentary series will air on PBS on March 30, 31, and April 1st at 9PM local time. Watch the film. Witness the impact LLS has had on the fight against cancer. We all have more work to do. Join us."

To see the trailer go to:

http://www.lls.org/emperor/

And...

I will be running with Moms in Training again for a race in April...a race in which I will be fundraising for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. I will share the links and details as I get them. 

And...

sharing some love with us and others...

"Less than one month, guys! Let's get the word out and raise some money for Pediatric Cancer Research! I'm going to "Brave the Shave" in honor of Everett - so donate what you can, every little bit helps!" -Brianne

Help the cause, visit:

https://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/740843/2015

Finding happiness

I wasn't going to accept another sad day at clinic, so I asked Ev before we went how we could bring some happiness into our day. He wanted to go to a store and pick out a toy, so we did. Mr. Potato Head Batman...the least intimidating Batman he owns.

Once we got to Riley he got more toys in honor of his 4th birthday! ...some coloring books and a much stronger Batman, to which he refers to as Ghost Batman (he loves Halloween and Batman was dressed in all white so naturally this makes sense).

I wish I could say that the entirety of the visit was without any discomfort, but they never are...seeing him poked with a needle so large and having to hold him down...with the help of other nurses, it hurts me to see and do every time (a moment in which I must detach from my emotions). I wish I knew what it felt like to have that needle pierce my skin...I wish I could understand the realities of all his physical and emotional pain. I wish it was me instead of him. 

But, it was a good visit. He only had one chemo med and the visit was short. And he was a trooper!

I am his chameleon...I see him strong and I am strong, I see him in pain and I am in pain. I soaked up the strength and joy he managed to show that visit. Thank God not everyday is a bad one...and thank God he can be my chameleon too. 

Love gets us through

A couple weeks ago, Ev came running to me with tears in his eyes. He had hit his head. It was no big deal...a typical hit kids take repeatedly. He begged for a kiss and quickly. 

I kissed his head and he looked at me and said, it still hurts! I said, I can't take the pain away, all I can do is give you some love.

After I said this two thoughts came to mind...1) how God has given me that response multiple times (the pain can't be dismissed with the wave of a wand, but love can decrease the pain and get us through and He met my pain is so many different ways) and 2) how Ev has made it through so much physical and emotional pain and is just now realizing my kisses hold no magic...how did that happen?

This speaks to the power of love. And how the lack of love in ones life is the most tragic story.

I'm not sure Ev understood my reply to him, but he seemed to accept it and maybe in his subconscious realizes it did help him through. 

A sad day

Last clinic visit was a sad one. No cancer patient likes their clinic visits, but some are easier than others. This one can be labeled as sad.

There have been a handful of times that we have gone in and Ev sits in his stroller as if he is daydreaming or about to fall asleep. These days are usually the ones that he has to go in without having had breakfast...and only allowed clear liquids three hours before the procedure (spinal tap), which usually turns into four. So, when he did the same thing on our latest visit I didn't think too much of it. But, then he told me he was sad.

Within the last month or so Ev has had a realization of what is going on and what this "sickness" means. He has asked me a few times when he can have blueberries again and I have told him when the sickness is gone and that we are half way there. To which he commonly replied, ok. And then proceeded to play. But, he's realizing perhaps that halfway done might be longer than he hoped.

Ev has always just put up with his treatment. He'd take whatever hit he had to take wether on his own or with us by his side and then move on. It appears that time has come to an end.

So while we were at clinic he looked at me for reassurance and certainty. And, we all get it. Why does he have to have cancer? Why does cancer hurt? Why do I have to skip breakfast and come to a hospital for pokes when I feel fine?

He fought more over getting accessed too, verbally and physically. I told him none of us want him to get poked (I know I would take all the pokes for him), but we have to get the sickness out of his body. I listed family members who didn't want him to be in pain and he began to cry. At the time, I felt like he got it, but he might have just realized his certain doom of pokes ahead.

He was sad for most of that day. I was sad for most of that day too.

Ev will now tell me that he doesn't want to be sick anymore, and that he wants to do what brother does. And so begins another challenge in our battle against cancer. In the midst of our battle the baby is becoming a boy.

Still kickin'

It sure has been awhile since I last wrote. Close to 4 months since I last gave any descriptive updates. When asked in person how we are doing, I often try to limit myself as I could go on forever. And, honestly, most people want the cliff notes not the novel or even the novella. So, it is here that I allow myself to go further.

The last 4 months have not been too boring to write about, it was much to the contrary, but instead of it being about Everett's battle with Leukemia it was our battle against unfortunate events with our home.

I won't go on with all the details, but it has been a very tiring process and it has lead to a need to sell our home and go through all of our belongs (for a second time, if anyone is counting). For those who don't know, we have had issues with mold before and had to throw out or clean a great deal...and that was just the two of us. This time we had an extra set of things to go through. The victory in this...belongs don't add up to much for me or Jeff. There is freedom in that.

We battled, prayed and talked with others as Jeff and I tried to make the right decision for our family. And, in the end, it became simple. Either we devote time and money to my dream (money pit) home or we devote time and money to our family (and others). The peeps won, hands down. We wanted to take hold of this home and fix it up ourselves, but life changed and we needed to change too. We all have to maintain our focus on what really matters or we will find ourselves moving in hopeless circles.

So, we are now nearing the closing date for our home and we are in an apartment for the moment. The next move is uncertain, but we will figure it out.

Ev continues to do well. He still gets sick every other week or so and continues to feel tired at random, but on the whole he is doing well and having fun. He is growing like a weed and weighs 47 lbs., which is quite a workout (lets just say I could sell tickets for my own gun show). He barely fits in his stroller, which I try to use as much as possible...his feet drag and practically pull him out of his seat. That's probably why he wants to be buckled in all the time (or the fact that an "X" appears on his chest when buckled in...X-Men).

And, we are now officially at the half way mark in his treatment. Only 1 1/2 years to go.

Merry Xmas all! And, thanks for checking in with us!

  

As tough as can be

More often than not we, as a family and individually are commended for our strength. And, I guarantee we all appreciate the support and kind words. Thank you. 

But, I cannot let that be the end of the story. So, let me set the record straight.

Strength does not mean that we make all the right decisions. It doesn't mean that we face every challenge with grace, dignity and peace. It does not mean that we consistently "teach" cancer a lesson, sometimes cancer reminds us of its control. 

Strength means falling apart, but knowing that you're gonna stand back up...maybe in an hour, maybe in a couple days. Strength is not found alone, but with the support and love of others (some who have walked so many steps by our sides and others we randomly come across while living life). 

Everett was a good example of this real strength yesterday at clinic. He has been doing amazing at allowing the nurses to access his port (an uncomfortable process in which a good sized needle is poked into a spongy circle under his skin that then delivers chemo and other meds throughout his body. It's also where they take blood samples). 

So, Everett has been sitting in a chair all by himself the past 2 or 3 visits to get accessed. This is very commendable for a 3 year old to be able to do. It wasn't without squirms and telling us that he didn't want to do it, but he did it and he didn't need us to hold him (or hold him down, ugh). 

But, yesterday, we did have to hold him down. He just didn't want to do it on any level. And, after he was accessed, he was sad. He showed his sorrow and he showed his need and desire for love.

But, he went on...he had a spinal tap to get through. That part was easier for him and he made a comment that his doc dresses up as a banana to give him meds. 

He recouped from the sadness that a challenge such as this brings and with some love, he kept going and he laughed when he could. That is strength.

_________________________________

We are often mislead, not because we don't seek the truth, but because the truth isn't shared. That helps no one. I want to learn from others and I want others to learn from us. There are so many great byproducts when we open up and share.

Another month gone

Our last clinic visit was July 29. It went well, his ANC was within the appropriate range and all the blood and liver results were good. We went as a complete family and it was all in all a pretty good day. Ev was sick that morning and we still weren't sure why. His doc noticed from his blood work that allergies must be bothering him, so we left thinking and hoping that adding allergy medicine to his daily dose of meds would help him feel less tired and that he would not wake up ill. 

Though I think the allergy medicine helped, it did not take the extra sick days away. I guess we have to assume that he is feeling more side effects from the chemo meds and that this is one of them. Thank God for Zofran and other drugs that off set.

The day after the clinic visit was horrible. Ev felt sick and was inconsolable. I was told by someone who had recently gone through chemo herself that she had days that all she wanted was to be held, yet couldn't stand to be touched. It creaks my heart to hear a grown woman say that and then to think that a child still learning how to deal with emotions is probably feeling the same way.

So, for close to a week life really sucked. It's not that there are no glimpses of joy or that laughter is never heard within our walls...but the challenges out weigh all else. The steroid he is on had very little effect on him at first, then over time, it has started to change his mood. Everett has "roid rage". I think the last time we consistently dealt with that was around christmas time. 

Usually, the bad moods and bad days come and go, but this drug had the upper hand this past round. We will see what comes in a couple weeks (coffee and beer for me...a padded room and plenty of mac and cheese for Ev).

I find that as time goes on, I am more hopeful and proud of how far we've come through this without as many dents and scratches that we could have had. I mean this metaphorically and literally. 

In a couple months we will be close to being half way though his treatment and that's a great feeling. 

Why would I ever run?

I am pretty sure that I won't say "never" again. It seems that every time I say it I end up doing whatever I was adverse to, or even though it might be out of my control...it happens anyway. So what is it this time? Running.

I joined Team in Training (TNT, www.teamintraining.org) through the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (www.lls.org) and starting in August I will begin to train. I can sign up for a 3 or 5 mile run (the longest distance promises to be more scenic!?). Though I won't raise funds for every run or walk that I participate in, I am for this one.

Please visit my page and donate if you can. I know there are a million good causes to put money towards, so if you don't have one or your pockets are deep, pick this one...

Click here to help!

I also welcome any running tips...
Thanks!

No preschool this year

My plan was to introduce Ev to the preschool world this fall, but after signing him up and letting the whole thing soak in...well, I can't do it. I just can't compromise the integrity of his treatment because I want a better story for him. "I" want Ev to follow through with the plans I had for him and I know he would love preschool, but to what avail? So, I plan to keep him home while Ben goes off to kindergarten and see what the year brings.

Our clinic visit and talk with the doc last Tuesday was inconclusive as to why Ev gets sick every other Tuesday. But, they checked his liver to make sure there wasn't too much toxicity there. The levels were elevated from the last time he was checked, but not enough to stop or reduce any chemo. Also, his counts were high again (ANC 6000s). His counts should not be this high during the maintenance phase, and it hasn't been during any phase we've gone through thus far. So, the dosage of his oral chemo meds were increased. Great! (total sarcasm). A.K.A....toxicity levels were up when he was on a lower dosage, but we have to up the dosages in order to bring done his ANC.

To me, this is a sign of welcoming in the craziness that for a moment we were without. There is a reason people say "fighting cancer" or "battling cancer"...its common knowledge its not a one and done deal (to all of our dismay).

On a high note...Ev was "scheduled" to wake up sick this morning and he didn't. I'm ok with being clueless for now...when it means he is doing better.

An update of sorts

Tomorrow we go to Riley for our 5th visit in the maintenance phase. It will be quick, as Ev doesn't have a spinal tap and the chemo he is getting is a small amount and can be given in about 15 minutes.

Last visit his ANC was in the 6,000s due to a possible infection in his body (or the chemo drug dosage needs to go up). Either way, we will find out tomorrow. The glitch in the system is that Ev has woken up feeling sick off and on in the past two months or so. Because it's not consistent its hard to tell if it's a random bug or a psychological thing. (It seems unlikely that it has to do with the meds he is taking at home.) It usually happens Tuesday mornings...he wakes up nauseous and lethargic, pukes for a bit and then slowly transitions into his happy self by the end of the day. Though I am not alarmed by this, I  look forward to figuring out how to end it.

We have had a busy June with the treehouse being built, camping with the grandparents and the Make A Wish party.

The party was so much fun and we were all exhausted from it. I've never been a part of such an amazing kid party. Dinner, fireman truck training 101, a police escort, a bat mobile, cake and plenty of play time with neighbors, friends and family.

It's been a fun month and I am so glad for it, no matter if it takes a bit to replenish.

Treehouse time!

I think it’s foolish to wish away any day, even though I have done it. But, none of that happened this past week. I looked at the calendar and realized that for the past seven days not one number had the notorious line through it. That is the sign of a good week.

Ev’s wish granting began June 11 and it has been an amazingly fun process.  The Treehouse Guys www.treehouses.org are uniquely talented and so much fun to be around. They brought their expertise and their vibrant lives to share with us. They are creating a magical world in our own backyard…a place where we will all share many laughs, conversations and the silly and creative business of being a kid.

What joy for something to go beyond what we could have comprehended. Ev’s wish has extended from him and somehow felt like a granted wish for our entire family, our friends far away and those next door.

And now, 10 days later we have a treehouse. A treehouse that graciously invites us up into its branches…a place the boys want to live 24/7. Here is the story in photos…

Thank you Make A Wish wish.org, Steve Gray Renovations www.stevegrayrenovations.com and The Treehouse Guys www.treehouses.org for making this dream come true! You all have made such an impact on this chapter in our lives...bringing us more smiles and joy.